


this time

by Ryah_Ignis



Series: Season 13 Codas [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 13x05 Coda, M/M, bed sharing, bet you thought there was enough of that in my s12 codas, can't stop won't stop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 09:27:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12679101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryah_Ignis/pseuds/Ryah_Ignis
Summary: "Bleary eyed, Dean raises his head.  When he locates Cas in the dark, the creases fade again.  Cas tries not to read into that."You--" He's not sure how to approach this. "You had a nightmare."Dean rubs at his face. "It's over now."Post 13x05, Cas and Dean reunite.  There's some bed sharing.





	this time

Everything from the familiar rumble of the Impala beneath him to the alternating light-dark of the passing streetlamps wants to lull him to sleep, but Sam's brain is far too crowded for that.  He rubs his fingers slowly up and down the flat part of his knuckles.  The barely-there scabs crack open; he wipes the blood on his jacket.  The floor of the Meadows hadn't taken kindly to him punching it as if that could reawaken his brother.

Eyes half closed, Sam glances over at him.  Dean stares straight ahead--not unusual, given that he's driving.  But there's something missing there.  He loves driving at night, says there's a sort of magic in being the only one on the road.  Not even a scrap of enjoyment lights his eyes now.

He doesn't know what to do.

None of the usual has worked.  Before, Dean has always been able to bounce back.  After Dad, after Bobby, Charlie, hell, anybody that they've lost, he's always been able to.  This time, there's something different.  And Sam just can't pinpoint what.  So he keeps one eye half open, trained on his brother in case he decides to drive the car into a ravine or something.  After the stunt he pulled only a few hours ago, it wouldn't surprise Sam.

And isn't that terrifying?

Eventually, despite his best efforts, Sam drifts off.  The stress of pounding Dean's chest and begging him to come back, he supposes.  Or maybe he's just old.  Either way, he awakens to Dean on the phone, eyes so wide that Sam's heart misses a beat.  He runs through the list of people who it could be.  Claire, neck snapped on a regular ghost hunt gone wrong.  Jody, tackling a vamp nest above her pay grade.  Donna, getting just a little bit too nosy.  Who is it this time?  He can't take another.  Not tonight.

"It's Cas," Dean says hoarsely, gaze unblinking.

The Impala screeches to a halt.  Behind them, a horn blares as Dean jerks the wheel and sneaks across the highway between a gap in the median.

"What the hell?" Sam shouts, the last cobwebby tendrils of sleep falling away. "Dean!"

Not hearing him, Dean steps on the gas.  The Impala groans beneath him.  Sam grabs for the door, as if he can brace both himself and the car in place.  They whip around the corner and whiz down the highway in the opposite direction.  A particularly large truck has to switch lanes to avoid them.  The driver flips them off.  Sam shrugs apologetically as they speed ahead.

He tries again. "Dean.  Whatever called you, that wasn't Cas."

"I know him," Dean says firmly, and that's that.

When they pull up outside a phone booth that's probably older than the both of them combined and Dean cries into the trench coat, Sam suddenly realizes what was different about this time.

* * *

Cas sits on the edge of a double bed, playing with a loose thread from his new coat--he hasn't tried to explain this particular fashion statement yet--to remind himself that it's all real.  The shaking of his hands while he dialed Dean's number.  The warm blast of air every so often as the dishboy from the restaurant next door carried bags of trash outside.  The rumble of the Impala at the end of the alley.  All of it.

And Dean stretched out on the bed across the room, face planted in his pillow.  That's real, too. 

He'd insisted on stopping for the night, and when Sam booked the rooms, he hadn't even batted an eyelash at Dean all but herding him into this one.  Cas isn't quite sure what to make of that, but he likes the additional time to map out Dean's familiar form to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything.

Dean shifts in his sleep, flopping until he faces Cas.  His nose scrunches up and the small creases in his forehead deepen.  As Cas watches, several tiny beads of sweat form on his forehead.  One trickles down his neck.  His legs thrash once, twice.

"No!"

His eyes fly open.  Frantically, his hands search the empty space of the bed next to him.  Cas jerks upright, reaching to help him before he remembers himself.  His hand falls to his side.

"Dean?" he tries, instead.

"Cas?" 

Bleary eyed, Dean raises his head.  When he locates Cas in the dark, the creases fade again.  Cas tries not to read into that.

"You--" He's not sure how to approach this. "You had a nightmare."

Dean rubs at his face. "It's over now."

Cas can't bring himself to sit back down.  Instead, he drifts across the ocean of space in between them.  To his surprise, Dean lifts the covers as he shifts over to the other side of the bed.  Not that there's much of another side.

"You died," Dean explains. "In the dream, I mean.  And I couldn't stop it.  And it felt like--"

"I know," Cas says, sitting down in the empty space Dean has created. "When you were in that cell--"

He doesn't get a chance to finish before Dean lurches up in a sudden rush to throw his arms around his neck.  Cas closes his eyes and leans into the hug.  He knows for a fact Dean will have a crick in his back later from how he's twisted.  He doesn't seem to care, and that tiny observation makes Cas's eyes prick again.  He hugs back just as tightly, clutching at the thin material of Dean's t-shirt.  Standing there in the darkness of the Empty, he'd thought he'd never have this.

"Stay," Dean commands, muffled, into his neck. 

And he does.

 


End file.
